The correct use
by Not Just a Nerd
Summary: In which Leonard and Sara have a deep and meaningful midnight conversation about the correct use of the handcuffs she keeps in her room. Leonard x Sara. One-shot.
"What the hell are you doing? This isn't funny, _Leonard_ ," she growls, adding as much fury to her voice as she can manage, given her current situation.

Honestly? She should have seen this coming. He's a master thief, an expert at breaking into places and skilled at fooling Gideon into thinking his actions are directed by Rip's orders, and futuristic technology is not going to stop him from sneaking into her locked room while she's asleep.

Still. She did not see this coming, did not expect to sleep through somebody invading her personal space. Apparently she's so used to Leonard doing just that, that years of training as an assassin is of no use when it comes to him. She doesn't wake up until she feels the click of cold metal against her wrists. And here she is, in her bed, hand-cuffed, and with the man she very much wants in it. She can easily get out of her restraints, but a part of her wants to see this through.

"I never said it's funny, _Sara_ ," he answers coolly, taking a place at the foot of her bed and keeping his eyes fixed on hers.

She feels her skin flush just from the way he's staring at her, and has to look away. "I was sleeping. So if you don't mind." She lets the sentence trail off and tugs at her cuffs meaningfully.

He smirks. "I knew you were kinky, but I didn't realize you kept handcuffs on board this ship. Who's the lucky bastard?"

She glares at him. How can he even think she's sleeping with someone else when she's into whatever the hell it is that is going on between them? Of course he doesn't. He's playing her. "You know what these are for," she answers evenly.

A flicker of concern makes its way into his irises, but he masks it behind mischief. "I'm familiar with the concept of BDSM."

She knows this is her opening to divert the subject to him. "Of course you are. Cops play with you all the time."

"You still didn't answer my question," he points out, not falling for it.

She knows what he's _really_ asking, even when he already knows the answer, and she's just exhausted enough at this point to give in. "These are for everyone's safety. If I lose control, I don't want to hurt any of you."

His eyes shimmer with challenge. "If you lose control, I'm going to freeze these cuffs. You're very welcome."

"Leonard, this is the only way to-"

He's angry, and he doesn't even let her finish that sentence. "You're not some kind of feral animal that needs to be chained up. I'm not going to let anyone do that, not even you."

She can't remember the last time somebody was this concerned about her, and the warmth she feels in her chest manifests itself as rage. "You can't make my decisions for me."

He pauses just long enough to study her face. His eyes soften when they meet hers. "No. I'm deciding for _myself_. I don't need protecting from you."

She knows the meaning those words hold. He's not talking about just her bloodlust, he's laying everything on the line. How should she respond? Should she run away from the best thing that has happened to her since the girl she was died on that island? Or should she shove aside her fears and worries and let herself melt at the hands of Leonard Captain Cold Snart?

"What are you doing, Leonard?" she asks again, and this time with the terror reigning in her apparent.

He has his own demons, and he understands hers. He doesn't need an answer, not today. Instead, he touches the skin under the metal cuffs, making her shiver. "I'm showing you the correct use of these things," he says, and because he knows they both want something more meaningful than a cheap thrill, adds, "but maybe another time."

He shifts till he's sitting beside her, his legs stretched out next to hers, reaches for the key in his pocket and releases her from her binds. Twenty seconds later, his left hand is cuffed to her bedpost.

He should have seen it coming, should have known she would turn the tables on him. That's one of the many things he adores about her- she's a woman who can beat him at his own game. He can break out of these easily too with practiced ease, but he's curious enough to play along. "What are _you_ doing, Sara?"

She doesn't answer, instead she rests her head on his shoulder, wraps an arm around him, and closes her eyes. In that moment, she feels twenty, like she will wake up and Laurel will accuse her of stealing her mascara, her mother will ground them both when they fight, and her father will be genuinely concerned about her choice of boyfriend. In that moment, she feels alive, and not just resurrected. "Stay," she simply says.

He stays, even after he tucks the cuffs into his pocket, to be stashed away later in a place where she can never find it. At least not until they're ready to use it in the correct way.

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 **A/N: Thanks for reading and I hope you like it! :)**


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